Responsibility Kills The Magic

September 3, 2003|By Justin Laufer University of Florida Stranahan High graduate

Autumn is upon us. The fun, hot, carefree days of summer are behind us and we are back in the structure and demands of the school year.

I'm sure I will be forgiven for not jumping with joy at that thought. I remember how fun summer used to be during my childhood.

Indeed it was the carefree time of year where you could choose to do as much or as little as you wanted. There'd be days where I would simply lay back on the grass of my back yard and watch the clouds lazily drift by, or I'd go on adventures in my neighborhood, usually culminating in a trip to the mall and an oh-so-yummy ice cream parlor.

Notice the use of past tense. That's right, boys and girls, summer has lost most of its magic.

Responsibility and maturity killed summer. No longer can you sit idly by. Now you must work and be a productive member of society, one who can help pay those nasty college bills.

Working, while having absolutely destroyed my once-peaceful summers, has been a worthwhile experience. Because of certain personal reasons, I was unable to be employed until this past summer, so I have begun my foray into the working world rather late.

Since experiencing life as a server at The International House of Pancakes, I have learned the value of working for your living and what going to college really means.

I never thought earning a mere $30 would seem so rewarding and require as much effort as it did.

Summer has gone from that time of year where I can forget everything and lazily drift by, to an extension of the classroom -- an education in the real world life of a worker.

These long years of boring classes, difficult tests and five-figure bills mean college graduates can work eight hours and earn oh-so-much more than minimum wage. Sure $40 a day can get you a lot, but us eager young minds are capable of more productive endeavors.

We can spend our lives as a restaurant server, or we could strive to become the owner of that restaurant or the CEO of the company. Only by working these entry-level positions can we understand the true value of an education, what we can do in life and what exactly we want to do with that life.

So work has destroyed my once naive view of summer. I'm a student and a worker now. Responsibility abounds, and I must either rise to the occasion or wallow in my fear and unwillingness to give up the simple pleasures of childhood.

I chose to rise, and now I face the autumn and the new academic year with a renewed sense of purpose and a backpack full of experiences.

Yet, I can't help but think of the Summer of 2004, once the time of watching the clouds drift by, now the bringer of shifts and paychecks. I look forward to the meager living it will provide, but still think of those past times.